It had been eight hours since the incident between Lang and Dave, eight hours since the building shook like something massive had struck it.
The staff had rushed through the halls in panic, alarms blaring, glass vibrating. To those who didn't see what happened, it sounded like a creature had tried to break in, the repeated booming from the back section of the building, each hit echoing like thunder through metal.
Now, everything was calm again.
Dave sat quietly on his bed, back against the wall, staring at the silver floor tiles that reflected the faint glow of the ceiling lights. He had been awake for hours, lost between relief and confusion.
He knew one thing for sure, he was in Galaxia.
Even that word still amazed him.
He hadn't seen much of the world outside this building, but just knowing he was somewhere far beyond Earth or maybe not on Earth at all filled him with a strange excitement. He tried to smile. He wanted to feel thrilled, to explore, to understand. But there was something missing.
He couldn't remember how he got here.
He rubbed his forehead slowly, trying to think. Nothing came. Not even fragments.
Just emptiness.
The door slid open with a faint hiss.
A tall man stepped in. His presence filled the small room immediately, long black hair falling to one side of his face, the other side partly hidden behind the frame of his glasses. He wore a white coat over sleek medical wear, a name tag pinned to his chest:
Dr. Greenwood.
"Hi. You must be Dave," he said, voice calm and firm. "I'm Dr. Greenwood. You're not in perfect condition yet, but there's no need to keep you under constant supervision. Thread constriction is a serious condition but it's not permanent."
He handed Dave a tablet. On its screen glowed a faint outline of Dave's body, threaded with luminous veins of light. Some were bright blue; others were marked in red.
Dave's eyes widened. His pulse quickened.
He didn't understand what he was seeing but it didn't look good.
'What the hell happened to me?'
Greenwood studied him quietly, then asked, "What's the last thing you remember, Dave?"
That question hit like a shock.
Dave froze. His eyes dulled. His hand clenched tightly against his knee.
At first, nothing. Just a wall of fog.
Then, slowly, something surfaced.
"I…" his voice cracked. "I was going to meet my mom in the hospital. There was an attack. I went to check if she was okay."
His breathing quickened. "Mr. Greenwood… where's my mom? Is she here? Did someone save her?"
The doctor didn't answer immediately. His expression didn't change but behind the calm, something flickered.
That's the strange part, Greenwood thought. During the investigation, we found records showing he brought his mother to the hospital. But no follow-up reports after that. The sector unit has nothing. No confirmation. No trace.
"Dave," Greenwood said finally, "trust me we're looking into that. We've already contacted the Sector Unit for the hospital files and camera footage. We'll find her."
He swiped across the tablet. A new image appeared, an orb glowing faintly blue.
Dave's body tensed. His eyes widened in disbelief, but he quickly looked down to hide his expression. His lips pressed tightly together.
He recognized it instantly.
The same orb from Saudi Arabia, the one he had never told anyone about. The one no one would believe existed.
"No," he said, his tone suddenly flat. "I don't know what it is."
Greenwood nodded slowly, though his eyes lingered on him for a second longer than usual.
"Alright then."
He slipped the tablet under his arm. "You've been unconscious for quite a while, Dave. A lot has changed."
Dave looked up. "How long?"
"Over a month."
Dave stared blankly at him, his voice trembling.
"And in all that time… there's been nothing from my mom?"
"I'm afraid not."
Dave's fingers dug into the edge of the bed, squeezing the fabric until his knuckles whitened. His face remained unreadable, but his heart pounded so hard it hurt.
'It's fine… she's fine. They'll find her. They have to. It's Mom. She's strong'
He tried to believe it because that's all he had left. But beneath that thought, something darker was stirring.
"The Sector Unit is doing everything they can," Greenwood said with a light smile before heading for the door. "Try not to worry."
He stepped out into the corridor, where another doctor was waiting, a man slightly shorter, with a clipboard in hand.
"So, what's his status?" Helmut asked, taking the tablet.
"Stable," Greenwood replied, adjusting his glasses. "But his memory's still fractured. He only remembers taking his mom to the hospital before an attack. Nothing after. Any word from the Sector Unit?"
Helmut frowned. "You know how they are. Probably something happened, but they won't release it yet."
He scrolled through the report on the tablet. "His thread points are partially blocked, energy channels overstressed, looks like he forced his cosmic energy out of his body. Classic post-exertion collapse. But the strange part? The Sector Unit won't give us the original file on his case. Classified."
Greenwood sighed, lowering his voice. "So it's true, then. Another restricted case."
"Seems like it." Helmut tapped the screen off. "He won't be able to use cosmic energy for years, maybe longer."
---
Inside the room, Dave sat still, head bowed. His hands pressed against his temples as he tried to force another memory to the surface. But every time he did, something flashed through his mind, distorted, painful images, voices he couldn't make out, and the sharp feeling of fear crawling through his chest.
The harder he tried, the worse it got.
Veins bulged at the side of his head. His breath grew shallow.
He gritted his teeth.
And then...
~It's advisable you stop forcing it Dave.~
The voice was calm, distant, and close, like someone whispering directly into his ear.
"WHAT THE.....!?"
Dave jolted upright, stumbling off the bed. His shoulder slammed into the second bed in front of him. He regained his footing instantly, fists clenched, eyes darting across the room.
Nothing.
Empty space.
No one else there.
But the voice had been real.
"Who's there!?" he shouted, voice echoing against the walls.
Silence.
His breath came quick and heavy, his hands still trembling.
The faint hum of machines was the only sound that answered him.